


He never stood a chance

by Talthecap



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, Dubious Consent, Forced Orgasm, Gratuitous Use Of Magic, M/M, Masturbation, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation, Time Travel, Voyeurism, Wizard's Chess (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-29
Updated: 2019-05-29
Packaged: 2020-03-26 14:50:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19008013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Talthecap/pseuds/Talthecap
Summary: Harry decided to play a little game with Tom but it ends with consequences he really should have foreseen





	He never stood a chance

**Author's Note:**

> Another self-indulgent piece

“I want you to let me go.”

The silence that suddenly filled the room was almost deafening. Harry would have said something, anything to take back the words but his heart was beating fast, pounding too loudly in his ears, and making him feel like a little faint headed. The rashness and obliviousness, he had learned to live with. It was his mouth that always got him into trouble and it looked like today might be it for the last time.

Harry swallowed and steeled his nerves. His eyes had been darting everywhere the past few seconds but he forced himself to look up across the table, into the eyes of his captor. _Captor_ was still a word that his mind flinched from because no prisoner had ever lived in such luxury, but there was no denying that he was a captive of some sort. For one, he had not been allowed to step outside without a binding agreement forcing him to return within a few hours, for the last three months. Even that, to get a chance to step outside, had been a struggle that had led to quite a few wizards’ injuries. Whenever Tom got upset with him, one of his devotees would withstand the worst of the resultant anger, never Harry. Sometimes, when he got really upset, Tom would torture the guards who kept watch over Harry whenever Tom left to do god knows what. The very guards Harry had become a little used to. Then Harry would know enough to back off.

Still, the last person who had told Tom to either let Harry go or kill him and be done with it, had never been seen again. He had been in Tom’s inner circle but was someone Harry did not recognise. The guards had avoided meeting Harry’s eyes for weeks after that incident. Something horrific must have happened but Harry did not remember it. His memories of that night were fuzzy and he figured Tom must have obliviated him after he did what he did to the man. Harry belonged to Tom Riddle. That much had become clear soon after that when Tom found ways around their unspoken No-Touch Rule, to bring Harry to orgasm with just his magic. They had never talked about that and Harry had been too afraid to demand his freedom thereafter. Tom, for his part, while still as gentle and indulgent with Harry as he had always been, continued to force him to come every day after that with a ruthlessness that Harry had stopped trying to resist.

Yet there Harry was, 2 months later, undoing that goodwill all for a silly game. Maybe today was the day Tom finally hurt him.

“Ask for something reasonable, Harry,” Tom said, his tone light.

Harry stared at the other man. His heart still pounding, not catching onto the fact that perhaps the danger was not quite as imminent as he had previously feared. Although Tom’s expression remained as unreadable as always, there was a glint in his eyes as he stared at Harry; an almost twinkle that… He was…  _amused_? Tom was amused! There Harry was, practically breathless with fear and the other man was laughing at him behind his closed expression.

“You told me to ask for what I want,” Harry bit out, irritated.

Tom leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs, the very picture of nonchalance. “You can ask for anything else-”

“Then it wouldn’t be what I want,” Harry snapped, interrupting the other man.

 _What was he doing_? Surely now was the time Tom extended his wand and punished Harry.  Instead, he chuckled and looked at Harry with the same intensity he always had just before making him come in his pants with a few whispered spells. Harry was not going to like this.

“Fine,” Tom said, smirking. “I’ll let you go if you win.”

Buzzing filled Harry’s ears and he wondered if this was what it felt like when the soul left the body. He felt like he was suddenly watching the events unfold from a high vantage point. There was a fierce hope nested within him that had always refused to die. A hope that he would one day escape and leave behind the consequences of his idiocy, and he felt that optimism push through his scepticism and rest in his heart. Tom was up to something, he knew, but there was still a chance he could get away. _A chance!_

“But if I win, then I want to see you touch yourself.”

For the second time in as many minutes, Harry gaped at the other man. Tom looked like might as well have been talking about the weather for how calm he looked.  As if he had not just upped the ante in a way that made Harry doubt his hope.

For all his crimes – and they were currently _nothing_ compared to what Voldemort did; plus Harry really, _really_ needed to stop thinking of Tom and Voldemort as separate people – Tom had never harmed Harry. He knew that Tom had done something to him the first time they met, when Harry idiotically pushed too far and landed in a past into which he should have been unable to cross. Whether it was torture or aggressive legilimency, Harry had no idea because Tom had erased most of that experience as well, leaving only traces of discomfort and a touch of fear. He must have discovered then that Harry held a piece of his soul… well, his _future_ soul, which was a broken and feeble thing that bemused him endlessly. It was one of the few times Harry could recall the other man not being as collected as he always was.

“ _How did it come to this?_ ” he had asked Harry. As if Harry could offer any satisfactory reasoning for the madness Volde-, _Tom_ had fallen into. Would fall into? It was all up in the air now but undoubtedly, Harry had started an alternate dimension with his actions. Hermione had warned him too but… well it’s not like he had intended to practically land in Tom’s lap when he had planned this. For all the good his intentions did him, catching the man after he had just made his third horcrux.

“Hmm… you look doubtful. Is that not enough for you, Harry? Would you like more?” Tom practically purred, narrowing his eyes at Harry and snapping him out of his reverie.

“W-what?” Harry asked, willing himself not to blush under the heated gaze. “Er… no, that’s okay.”

Tom smirked and Harry felt like he had missed something. Despite all the comfort Tom showered him with, Harry had never asked for a thing regardless of Tom’s encouragement. If anything, he suspected that this was Tom’s manipulative way of getting him to request for something. No doubt Tom’s plan had been to let him win and then give him whatever he requested for, but then Harry just had to go to the extreme and ask for his freedom. Now Tom was doubtlessly going to play for real.

With a quick wave of his hand, Tom summoned the Wizard Chess and Harry forced himself to pay attention. He was going to lose. He could practically feel it and the way Tom eyed him, all smug satisfaction, showed the other man knew it too. Not that Harry hadn’t tried to go for Exploding Snap, something easier and quicker, but there was no way Tom would allow him the use of a wand. Not until he had won Harry over to his side at the very least. _Or fucked him into submission,_ his mind supplied. Harry was not that much of a fool, he knew how this ended and it was on his knees, coming around Tom’s cock in his arse.

“You will have to orgasm, Harry.”

Harry started and promptly lost the fight against his blush, feeling the flush travel down and go straight to his cock. He must have looked quite puzzled because then Tom uncrossed his legs and leaned forward across the table, not breaking eye contact.

“When I watch you pleasure yourself,” and Merlin, the way he said _pleasure_ made Harry want to sink into the couch. “You _will_ come.”

Well _fuck_ him. That was not hot at all, not at all.

“I am not going to lose, Tom,” Harry said, hating that he sounded so unsure. It was like he had been conditioned. Every time Tom spoke to him with that look in his eyes, tone commanding, it was a given that Harry would end up a moaning mess. His body knew it too if the way his cock was taking interest was any indication.

Still, he was not going down without a fight.

*****

He lost.

Badly.

He should have felt humiliated but the way Tom’s eyes were practically devouring him in that moment, holding him in place, made him feel anything but. His pulse was already beating a staccato and he watched, almost mesmerised as Tom sent the chessboard flying back and the table moving to the side. Even in such a moment when he was clearly impatient, the other man still maintained a neat space.

“Come here, Harry,” he said, spreading his legs. His voice was deep and smooth, going straight to Harry’s cock.

Harry almost stood up and walked right over but his stubbornness kept him in place. He was half hard and almost interested, but he was not going to be so easily seduced. Tom would have to work much harder to get him to breach their No Touch rule. And it was ridiculous that somehow, Harry had moved from thinking he would never want to break the rule, to wanting to make Tom work for it.

“I don’t want to do it like this,” Harry said, voice wavering.

Shit, he had to come up with something fast!

“How do you want to do it?” Tom asked, an eyebrow raised in challenge.

“B-behind the table?” Could he sound any more uncertain?

Tom was a diabolical puppeteer and Harry probably had no luck here but he was never going to be one to just lie down and take it, and god, now he was thinking about Tom’s cock in his arse again. Still, he did not want to be _that_ exposed in front of the other man and yet from the glint in Tom’s expression, he couldn’t help but think he had just stepped into another trap.

“You want to be hidden.” It was not a question and Harry did not respond to it. “You need to stop running from this, Harry. You know how this ends”

Harry shuddered and averted his eyes. He was not going to let Tom get to him like that today.

“Alright then, we can do it one of two ways.” Yep, he had stepped into a trap. “Either you sit there, hidden behind your table, and give me what I want while maintaining eye contact all the time,” and god, the insufferable man paused to leer at him. “Or you can hide your face, close your eyes, or wear a blinder even, but you let me watch you fully.”

Shit, shit, shit!

What kind of options were those? Either stroke himself to orgasm while Tom watched, probably using his legilimency shamelessly to see _exactly_ what Harry pictured in those moments, or close his eyes and allow himself to be stripped bare and vulnerable while he pleasured himself. This is how he knew that he was a prisoner. Even though he got options, in the end it always felt like he hadn’t had much of a choice. It was a matter of choosing the option he thought he could live with and yet Tom still had a way of twisting all his “choices,” making him look wanton and depraved.

“I-I’ll strip,” Harry said, his voice coming out hoarse.

“Good boy,” Tom said, leaning further back into the chair smugly. “Come here, Harry.”

Harry tried to tell himself he had no choice as he made the few steps necessary to stand before Tom, but it felt like this was a path he had chosen willingly. No one had truly forced him into it.

“Go on,” Tom said, slowly looking his body up and down, as if he were a particularly tasty treat.

Harry swallowed and closed his eyes. It was best to get it over with. He lifted his shirt over his head and felt himself flush a little more as Tom hummed in approval. Next he unbuttoned his pants and tried to not think of the way Tom had disappeared them last week, before he had bound Harry up with magic. Three orgasms had been forced from him that night. Harry slid his trousers down and quickly stepped out of them as if that would make the memory disappear.

“Everything, Harry.”

Merlin, Tom’s voice caressed his body and affected him in a way he had tried to fight and failed. He held back his shudder and slid his boxers down, gasping quietly as the fabric stroked lightly against his stiffening cock.

“Come here, Harry,” Tom repeated, voice deep, and Harry opened his eyes in surprise, not knowing what the other man wanted.

All humour was gone from Tom’s face and he just radiated stark want. He gestured across his lap, spreading his legs a bit wider and Harry felt his cock fully harden. This had _obviously_ not been the better choice but he swallowed again, averted his eyes and moved to sit down across Tom’s lap. He sat sideways, one leg up on the couch, the second on the floor, and back against the armrest. He half expected the other man to touch him but true to his word, Tom did not move at all. Harry closed his eyes, not wanting to see how the other man looked at him lest he lost his resolve.

With the lack of touch, his skin seemed even more sensitive and he felt a heat steadily burn at his core at the feel of Tom’s pants beneath his thighs and against his arse. It did not help that he could clearly feel the warmth of Tom’s cock through the other man’s clothes, against his left hip. The feeling sends a small hot shock straight through him to his groin. Tom shifted and Harry would have called foul if he hadn’t then felt a cloth slip his eyes; Tom had probably summoned a face mask. Harry gasped as the mask moved into place and he felt Tom’s cock twitch.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Tom said, his voice husky.

The mask seemed to liberate Harry somehow and yet make him more aware. He could feel the caress of Tom’s pants against his balls, and the soft material of the couch at his back. Harry let his hand travel downward, straight to his cock and he stroked it lightly, suppressing a moan at the exquisite pleasure it created. He needed to get this over with though. He squeezed softly at the base and stroked up slowly, circling his thumb across his glans and spreading the liquid at the tip.

He did not understand what Tom did to him or how he found himself in these situations with the other man but he could not deny how desperately his body reacted. His head fell back against the arm rest with a soft sigh and he moved his hips up, thrusting slightly into his hand. Harry’s hand started a nice rhythm and he added a small twist beneath the head of his cock as he got to the top, which made him moan out loud, his lips parting as he panted softly. Tom was silent and had gone absolutely still and Harry imagined him watching with rapt attention. He was vaguely aware that he was moaning softly but continuously now, left leg digging into the couch, and back arching. His hand had kept up a nice rhythm and he was so close, almost over the edge. As if on cue, the image of Tom fucking him in the arse over his lap splashed across his eyes and Harry dropped off the edge.

The he actually felt Tom’s magic breach his arse, stroking and penetrating him at the same time. Harry arched and started, but try as he might, the magic still steadily filled him, massaging his prostate until he started sobbing. He reached up and tried to yank the mask off his face, tried to tell Tom that this was not part of the deal; it wasn’t _fair_ , but he found his hands bound, unable to move. Harry writhed in Tom’s lap, pleasure assaulting his every sense and just when he thought he couldn’t take much more, he felt Tom reach _into_ him and stroke the part where their souls met.

Harry screamed, his body crumbling as Tom stroked their souls steadily, not letting up and yet not letting him come. The pleasure built until Harry felt he would go mad from it. This was how Tom took over and got him to submit. This was how he gave into the other man, with pleasure and moaning compliance. This was how he went mad.

Then Tom’s magic squeezed his prostate once more and Harry sobbed as he came again, violently and unrestrained. His body trembled as he surrendered to the pleasure. It felt like the pleasure assaulted him forever. It’s not like he’d had much of a choice in the first place anyway. This how it was always going to go.

He came back to Tom’s voice caressing him; appealing to him in a strange, almost delicious way. It confused him a little until he realised Tom was speaking to him in Parseltongue and Harry sighed, relaxing back. He didn’t know why he was still fighting, there was no way he was going to win.

“ **Good boy** ,” Tom told him in Parseltongue and Harry smiled as he dozed off.

 


End file.
